


Yeah, Surprise

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: And He Doesn’t Break, But This is An Angel of The Lord, Cas Knows Something, Dean Wants To Know It Too, Groping, Kind of Roleplay, M/M, Sneaky Cas, Spanking, body search, ticklish cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 21:38:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17353070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: There is definitely something going on in the bunker.  Dean knows it, and when he realises Cas does too he decides to get the information from the angel.And they might as well have some fun while he’s doing it.





	Yeah, Surprise

The third time Dean walks into a room and finds the conversation suddenly stops, or drops to whispers, and the parties present start taking an near obsessive level of interest in the furniture or their fingernails, he becomes convinced that there is some massive conspiracy going on.

And since he’d probably be dead if he wasn’t just a little bit paranoid (and to be honest, ever since he watched the original _Bodysnatchers_ movie one Halloween when he was a kid, the TV fritzing in and out in that crappy motel room, there’s been a part of him that’s just been _waiting_ ) he does the obvious checks first.

Nobody reacts to the holy water he mixed in with the whiskey, or the devil’s traps he hides under rugs, or the tiny bunches of garlic and milk thistle he pins above doorways.

Swapping out the beat up cutlery for an old silver set he picks up at the nearest charity shop just helps him confirm that everybody else in the bunker hasn’t been replaced by pod people and they’re not secretly vampires or werewolves or demons or whatever the fuck else.

Anyway, angels are immune to all that shit, so even if everybody else was something other than what they seem, Cas would know.

And that’s when it hits Dean. Cas _would_ know. Because Cas can’t actually keep a secret. He’s the world’s worst liar and now that Dean’s convinced whatever’s going on here isn’t about murdering him in his sleep because they’re all cursed, or something, he’s sure he has a foolproof way of finding out.

That’s why he’s the last person up that night, waiting on Cas coming back from dropping a couple of the refugees off at the bus station. They’re moving on a few at a time and, though he worries about them out there in a world that’s both like and unlike their own, Dean can’t deny he’ll be glad when it’s just _them_ again.

Him, Sam, Cas, Jack, their mom. His family.

But for now, he has something more important to be concerning himself with.

He’s sitting at the table when Cas comes downstairs, and seems surprised to see him there.

“Dean?”

“Cas.” Dean doesn’t get up. He sits there and he stares, and yes, there it is. Cas shifts a little uneasily, and his eyes drop to the floor.

_Gotcha_.

Now Dean gets up, and he comes over to Cas, and then moves to stand behind him. He presses in close enough that he’s on the cusp of touching, but not quite, though he knows his breath must be hot on the angel’s skin when he murmurs in his ear.

“I think you’re keeping something from me, buddy.”

Cas’s posture changes; it’s not the tired slouch it was when he was coming back downstairs (the recent months have been a heavy weight on all of them). Now he’s the battle ready angel, shoulders squared, spine straight, a taut line of tension running through him.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Dean huffs a low laugh. “Right. You don’t really want to make me ask you, again, do you, Cas? Or maybe you do. Maybe you want me to find out what it is you’re hiding.”

“I’m not-“

Cas’s words are lost when Dean’s hands close on his shoulders. He tenses, and Dean grins, knowing Cas isn’t quite sure where Dean is going with this.

He skims his hands over the solid round of bone and muscle, moving down Cas’s arms until he has a light grip on each of the angel’s wrists.

“Guess I’m just gonna have to search you, then. Get to the bottom of what it is you’re keeping from me.”

He isn’t obtuse to the fact that Cas doesn’t protest, so he makes good on his threat and turns Cas so he’s facing the wall. Then he just pushes, a gentle pressure on his back, until Cas is about a foot away from it.

“Put your hands on the wall,” he says, then “higher,” until it looks like Cas is trying to do a standing press up.

Dean slips his foot between the angel’s, nudges until Cas’s feet are shoulder width apart.

“Sure you don’t wanna co-operate?” Dean asks, and he prays (well, not literally, because a certain sneaky angel’s on that wavelength) that Cas doesn’t.

He gets his answer in the form of none, or at least nothing verbal. From here he can see the stubborn set of Cas’s jaw as he stares at the wall, and what might be the beginnings of a smirk.

Right then.

Dean runs his hands down Cas’s arms first, grinning as he reaches the angel’s underarms, and puts just enough pressure there to have Cas squirming.

But this isn’t about tickling him, though Dean was all kinds of delighted when he found out angels could in fact squeal for mercy under the right circumstances (and Dean mercilessly attacking every ticklish spot on Cas’s body was apparently that).

No, he’s taking this someplace else, and his fingers are soon moving on, skimming down Cas’s sides, then Dean’s palming down his back, before he shifts his attention to Cas’s front.

He lingers there more than he has to, because they both know just how much Cas loves the attention Dean gives his nipples. 

Not that Cas could possibly be hiding anything under his shirt (except a killer bod) but Dean is going to be thorough.

He delivers a last firm pinch and doesn’t give Cas any warning before he cups the angel’s ass in his hands.

“Still got nothing to say?”

“I believe under this country’s laws, that’s my right,” Cas says, and there it is, that smug fucking tone.

Dean smacks him on the ass, just the right side of sharp, and doesn’t miss the low, desperate whine he gets in response.

“I guess I’d better keep going.”

He scoots low to pat down Cas’s legs, doing a pretty professional job of it, and then straightens up because there’s only one place left to check.

So he does. He locks one arm around Cas’s waist, just in case the angel thinks about trying to pull away, and then cups him with his free hand.

The lights flicker and crackle; a whole row of books picks that moment to thump to the floor, and Dean feels his hair standing on end like the mother of all electrical storms is about to kick off all around him.

“Anybody’d think you liked that. Do you? Kind of naughty for an angel.”

He knows just how Cas does like to be touched there; slow, easy, building, almost like Dean’s teasing him instead of working him up to the edge.

By the time he has Cas there, he’s as hard as the angel, and he’s only just realising that anybody could walk in on them, anybody, and Dean isn’t sure regardless that he can actually stop.

He wants to rut against Cas, turn him around and shove him hard against that wall, and put his hand around them both and make it hard and fast and messy.

Instead he leans in against the angel’s back, stops moving, and shushes Cas when he makes a small needy sound.

“You’re not going to tell me, huh,” he says. 

“Dean,” Cas says, and he sounds so hungry for it that Dean can’t refuse him. So maybe he doesn’t get to find out, at least not right now.

But he’s always finished what he started, and this is not going to be the exception.

He steps back, grabbing Cas’s hand, and leads him back to their room.

++

It’s just after midnight when it hits Dean, and he can’t believe he’s just now realising.

Yeah, he’s definitely getting slower as well as older, but given his career choice getting older isn’t really that bad.

++

The _surprise_ party doesn’t disappoint; he’s beyond touched at the effort everybody put in, including homemade cake, and a pretty decent range of gifts, though having his family safe around him is the best of all.

Still, Dean doesn’t miss the cocky look on Cas’s face when their eyes meet across the room, and Dean knows when Cas thinks he’s won on points.

He’s probably not going to be so smug when Dean has him bent over his lap later, but then again, knowing the sassy little shit like he does, maybe he will.


End file.
